Bob DeCourcey, 45, a longtime Angels fan from Hesperia, plans to use his walker to get across the finish line on his own power. PHOTO COURTESY BOB DECOURCEY

1 of 8

Bob DeCourcey, 45, a longtime Angels fan from Hesperia, became wheelchair-bound after a 2009 car accident. He plans to push his way through the Angels 5K on Sunday and use his walker to get across the line on his own power. His goal is to walk again. For inspiration, he has turned his workout room into an Angels room. PHOTO COURTESY BOB DECOURCEY, TEXT BY MARCIA C. SMITH/THE REGISTER

1 of 8

After being told that he would likely never walk again, Bob DeCourcey turned to the not-for-profit Project Walk at the Spinal Cord Injury Recovery Center in Carlbad in March 2010. In October, he had a breakthrough: taking his first steps with a walker. PHOTO COURTESY PROJECTWALK.ORG, TEXT BY MARCIA C. SMITH/THE REGISTER

1 of 8

"I have hope that I will walk again," said Angels fan Bob DeCourcey, who has gained strength and conficence at Project Walk at the Spinal Cord Injury Recovery Center in Carlsbad. He has physical therapy at the center twice a week with trainers Bri Hamilton (pictured) and Sachi Gundrania. PHOTO COURTESY PROJECTWALK.ORG, TEXT BY MARCIA C. SMITH/THE REGISTER

1 of 8

Twice a week, Bob DeCourcey pushes himself through demanding two-hour workouts at the Spinal Cord Recovery Center in Carlsbad. A year ago, he was barely able to move the toes on his feet. Now he's taking steps. PHOTO COURTESY PROJECTWALK.ORG, TEXT BY MARCIA C. SMITH/THE REGISTER

1 of 8

Bob DeCourcey credits his trainers, Bri Hamilton, left, and Sachi Gundrania, for the progress he has made in the past year. Both trainers are going to do the Angels 5K on Sunday with DeCourcey. "The organizers wanted me to do the one-mile Fun Run but we figured, 'Let's go big or don't bother!'" PHOTO COURTESY PROJECTWALK.ORG, TEXT BY MARCIA C. SMITH/THE REGISTER

Bob DeCourcey, 45, is a longtime Angels fan from Hesperia, became wheelchair-bound after a 2009 car accident - but that hasn't stopped him from attempting Sunday's 5K. PHOTO COURTESY PROJECTWALK.ORG

He knew something terrible had happened, that he was seriously hurt or, worse, about to die, on that ink-black early Jan. 7, 2009 morning he downshifted, the steering wheel went one way and the tires on his Toyota Tacoma pickup spun and skidded another.

Black ice, the police report stated as the cause of the accident that sent Bob DeCourcey careening off Highway 138 near Silverwood Lake in San Bernardino County and down a violent, 100-yard tumble.

Everything — jutting rocks, brushing Black oak and Douglas fir branches, the sting of deploying air bags, pointed shards of shattered windows, the stiff steering wheel, the headrest and eventually the blackout — hit him all at once, like a shotgun blast, until his rolling world stopped suddenly still at the bottom of the ravine.

A gritty state corrections officer and outdoorsman who likes his music country, his moustache in a handlebar and his baseball related to all and only the Angels, DeCourcey awoke in the dark, his truck upside down. He wiggled out where the windshield used to be, digging his elbows into the dirt, pulling his 6-foot-2 prone self forward inches at a time, his feet dragging behind him.

"I got 10 feet before I knew my legs were gone," recalled Decourcey, 45, of Hesperia, who is determined to push himself in his wheelchair through all but the final 10 feet of Sunday's Angels 5K and then use his walker to step across the finish line.

"I was in the middle of nowhere, pitch black, freezing in 18 degrees, my legs stuck between rocks, 50 feet below the road where nobody could see me. I thought...," he said, stopping to take a breath, "I was probably going to die."

With a broken back, broken hip, a punctured lung, cuts everywhere and other internal injuries, Decourcey screamed for help. "I kept yelling and nobody was hearing me except maybe the birds," he remembered.

His body shivered from cold, shock, failure. It hurt to breathe. Thirsty, he ate snow as the sun rose and "made peace," he said, while drifting into unconsciousness.

Around 9 a.m., about four hours after the accident, Decourcey awoke in a helicopter bound for Loma Linda University Medical Center. His co-workers at Pilot Rock Conservation Camp found him on the prison-protocol search they began when Decourcey didn't report for his 6 a.m. shift.

His wife, Jodie, said he left their home in uniform around 5 a.m. She was in the intensive care unit when doctors said they needed to insert a rod to hold his back together, fusing five lumbar vertebrae (L1 to L5) in a five-hour surgery that afternoon. His extensive injuries also required that he be placed in a drug-induced coma for 21/2 weeks.

"When I came out of the coma, all I felt was pain and back spasms," DeCourcey said. "Pain everywhere. Even in my legs that I couldn't move, I felt like a sledgehammer was beating on them, and that was supposed to be the good news because pain meant there was feeling, blood flow and the possibility of healing."

After six bed- and wheelchair-bound months in the Loma Linda ICU and Kaiser Permanente Fontana Medical Center, doctors weren't encouraging. "Being slightly able to move my left big toe was all they said I would get," said DeCourcey, his voice weighted with anger.

Sent home with a turtle-shell brace and little hope, DeCourcey, on his sister's suggestion, went to visit a not-for-profit rehabilitation organization Project Walk at the Spinal Cord Injury Recovery Center in Carlsbad. So stubborn and independent, he didn't want to rely on others. Even more, he didn't want to be a broken man.

"I was scared but motivated by the athlete in me," said DeCourcey, who played football (defensive end) and baseball (center field, catcher and first base) at Alta Loma High and softball in adult rec leagues. "I've put everything into being able to walk again."

DeCourcey wants to run, jump, fish and hike again. He wants to line-dance with his wife. He wants his life back.

He has loved his Angels since he was 7 years old. One room in the home he and his wife had custom built in 2006 is a Halos shrine. The team provides inspiration as he works out on the room's exercise equipment.

He sees the pennants, the army of bobbleheads, ThunderStixx he keeps inflated, a Rally Monkey, a "No. 1 Fan" license plate and does 10 more reps. He pushes himself harder at the sight of ticket stubs from the 2002 World Series-winning postseason contests he attended and "paid so much money to scalpers to get to."

On the walls hang autographed jerseys of his two favorite players, Tim Salmon and closer Troy Percival, "because they've got fire." So does DeCourcey.

Since he arrived at Project Walk in Feb. 2010 unable to extend his knees or move his ankles, he has gotten hand controls on a new vehicle so that he can make the four-hour round trip to train with Bri Hamilton and Sachi Gundrania for two hours, twice a week. He arrives an hour early and stays late for stretching and extra work on a spin bike.

DeCourcey regained strength in his lower body and made strides, literally, with a walker. He got strong enough to stand. Baby steps, he kept telling himself. Baby steps, he kept wishing for. Then in October, while three therapists spotted his movements, he stood with his walker and on his own power, extended his right leg, touched his foot to the ground, shifted weight and moved.

"After that step, I just stood there crying, smiling," he recalled. "It had been seven months of hard work at Project Walk. One step led to another, right leg then left leg, then pedaling and resistance. I'm stronger now. I have muscles again."

He and his two Project Walk trainers registered last week for the Angels 5K on Sunday.

"I need to do this," said the man who believes in Angels.

But it's DeCourcey, two years after a horrific accident, who makes us root for miracles.

User Agreement

Keep it civil and stay on topic. No profanity, vulgarity, racial
slurs or personal attacks. People who harass others or joke about
tragedies will be blocked. By posting your comment, you agree to
allow Orange County Register Communications, Inc. the right to
republish your name and comment in additional Register publications
without any notification or payment.